The '3 Turns' that got a 'bit' Extended
by eitherabeastoragod
Summary: Sirius Black in a moment of strange clarity, in midst of all the confusion & madness, asked, "Is that a Time-Turner?" A single line & suddenly deep down in her subconscious, Hermione felt as if some huge grand play had been interrupted, as if a monkey-wrench had been thrown in the cosmic cogwheel of fate & storytelling. Post POF AU HP/FD NT/RL HG/DG Trained!HP. Reviews Requested!
1. Chapter 1

In a house, in front of a park, there lived a witch. Not a gothic, gloomy, gruesome, grotesque or grimy house, filled with human bones and blood, or arcane runes and symbols, nor yet a gingerbread and cake house, with panes of clear sugar. No, it was the house of a at-the-cusp-of 21st century teenage witch and that meant electricity, running water, telephone and sliced bread, and a much, much better interior decoration sense.

The said witch, was named Hermione Granger. And that fine early July morning, sunny and warm, found Miss Granger, sitting under a huge oak in the park in front of her house, along with one of her favourite books, The Hobbit. Miss Granger, a 14 years old, with wild, untameable bushy brown mane of hair and slightly larger than average front two teeth, was home from her 3rd year at her boarding school, Hogwarts, since last week of June, and now with the dawning of July, was feeling extremely restless.

And reason for her restlessness was no one other than her best friend, Harry Potter.

Since the beginning of her holidays she had been waiting for any communication from him, like he had promised before leaving Hogwarts. And when she did receive it last night, it was not via the usual Hedwig, with her graceful flirt and a flutter, but a phone call! A phone call! After living at Hogwarts for 10 months every year for 3 years, without any electronic device, it seemed somewhat like a cultural shock to her when she heard his voice on the phone. Earlier she was able to segregate the magical and non-magical parts in her brain quite easily. But when Harry called, to say she was surprised would be an understatement. And if she was surprised by the mode of communication, she was intrigued by the content of communication itself. All he asked was if she had any plans for the vacations yet, and when she replied in negative, he just said, "Good! Don't make any. I'll be by soon, with the plans for holidays!" and then he hung up.

At first she was miffed by his hurried manner, but then soon, her curiosity and inquisitive nature took over. Her parents had been debating their holiday plans since the start of summer. Her father wanted a lazy summer of laying out on some Mediterranean beach whole month reading his favourite literature. Her mother, on the other hand, wanted a whirlwind trip of jumping from museum to museum, soaking in history and culture. They were hashing out the details, bargaining with threats of revealing embarrassing secrets and bartering with favours and gifts, with each other. So when Hermione informed her parents of the phone call, they were both equally miffed at first and then curious and inquisitive.

They had left for their dental practice early in the morning, and feeling restless alone at home, Hermione had taken one of her favourite books and walked to her old favourite spot under the giant oak. But even with the book open, her mind was miles afar. There were so many questions bursting in her mind, like those fireworks that the Weasley twins used. What were Harry and Sirius up to? What had they done after leaving Hogwarts? How long were they gone? What was the extent to which Harry had changed? Who was this Tonks? And what was her relationship with Harry? What were these plans Harry was talking about? Was Ron with him? Had Harry informed him? Or Professor Dumbledore? Professor Lupin? And the most general and the most infuriating of them all, What the Hell was going on? Never in the last 3 years, had she felt so much out of loop with the things. Especially as she was best friends with Harry Potter! She was used to knowing things. The boy was a walking, talking trouble-magnet! Things just _happened _around him. And for past 3 years, one way or the other she was right beside him in each of their clockwork-like annual end-of-the-term world-saving adventures. But this year, something else happened...

Perhaps it would be better if she started at the beginning of it all. It began; as did most of the extraordinary (even from the perspective of a witch), unplanned (her meticulous planning OCD part) and dangerous (a small part of her subconscious responsible for instinct of self preservation, which just took a hike whenever Harry had one of his those annual moments) things in her life; with her aforementioned best friend, one Harry Potter. It was all going according to the playing-it-by-the-ear-plan of going back 3 hours in time, using a Time-Turner to save Harry's godfather Sirius (a falsely-incarcerated, escaped but recaptured; innocent but assumed mass-murderer) and Buckbeak (a cute, cuddly, innocent animal with half foot long talons which can shred a man to bones in seconds and a beak which can crush a skull with a single snap and which did maul Malfoy's arm. But it is Malfoy, so who cares?), fighting off an entire horde of Dementors, playing hide and seek with a werewolf, flying up the astronomy tower and opening the window of Sirius' room (another offence punishable by prolonged imprisonment), before giving him the hippogriff...when by chance, by divine intervention, or by the probability manipulation (quite common around Harry Potter), or as The Wise may say, a random Wrackspurt, on the top of astronomy tower, a single beam of light from the full moon fell on the Time-Turner around her neck, reflected, and caught the eye of Sirius Black. And in a moment of strange clarity, in midst of all the confusion and madness, he asked, "Is that a Time-Turner?"

A single line and suddenly, deep down in her subconscious, Hermione felt as if some huge grand play had been interrupted, as if a monkey-wrench had been thrown in the cosmic cog-wheel of fate and storytelling, as if someone had suddenly pulled a lever and shunted the fast moving train of life on a whole different track at the last moment, an instrument of change which turns a regular canon story into an alternate universe fanfiction which some poor budding writer wrote as a tribute to his muse, but never even got near to being as good as the original.

The next couple of things happened quite suddenly, and were quite hazy in Hermione's memories, Sirius talking about something to Harry, that mad mischievous gleam in Sirius' eyes, Sirius and Harry both climbing on Buckbeak, Sirius asking her for the Time-Turner, herself protesting against all this madness, Sirius assuring her that Harry and himself will be safe, that Harry will meet her before she reached back the Hospital Wing, herself giving the Time-Turner, hesitatingly, to Sirius against her better judgement, Harry waving her a half-confident goodbye, Sirius telling her the exact route she needed to take, Sirius squeezing Buckbeak's sides with his heels, taking off in a gallop and fall of enormous wings, disappearing behind a cloud across the moon. The moment of panic she felt, standing there alone, immobile with fear, staring at the spot in the dark sky where they had disappeared...before hearing footsteps just behind her, her heartbeat pounding in her ears, on verge of a breakdown and then;...a tug on her sleeves.

"Hermione! We've got exactly ten minutes to get back."

Relief flooded her. She spun around, it was Harry! But it was not the Harry who had just left with Sirius. Something was different about him, she couldn't pinpoint it out. She instantly noticed that mad, mischievous gleam in his eyes, so much similar to Sirius', or the slight confident, slight cocky smirk, which seemed totally alien on his face, unfazed that they were standing at the scene of a crime, that if caught they were liable to be thrown in jail, maybe even expelled! He was wearing same clothes, was of same size, but seemed older. He held his hand out and returned her the Time-Turner which she quickly put around her neck and tucked it under her robes, without even looking at it, too busy studying him.

He pulled out his wand and tapped her head with it. There was a faint white light and she felt as if a raw egg had been cracked onto her head. "Disillusionment charm," he said quietly. Still mute, from his abrupt departure, her panic-ridden brain and his sudden return, she merely nodded, before mentally smacking herself upon realizing that she was partially invisible. But Harry seemed to understand her as he gave her a reassuring smile before tapping his own head with his wand and disappearing from view. She sort of felt him waving his wand around a couple of times, "Sound Dampening and Odour Hiding Charms", his disembodied voice informed her again, then tugged at her hand and led her quietly and confidently through the doorway behind them and down a tightly spiralling stone staircase. Hermione was surprised, despite her pounding heart at his casual ease at casting complex charms, and that too silently. Just how much hours had Sirius and Harry gone back! At bottom, they heard Fudge and Snape's voices. They seemed to be walking along the next corridor, but Harry paid them no heed and carried on pulling her along. Along next corridor they heard a cackling ahead.

"Peeves!" Harry muttered under his breath, grabbed Hermione's wrist and tore into a deserted classroom just in time. As they waited for Peeves' voice to fade away, Harry suddenly pulled her close and hugged her tightly, "I missed you." He whispered in her hair. Hermione was again surprised, first Harry was never the emotional types, never even initiated a touch or hug, let alone a declaration of missing her, second, just for how long had he been gone, that he missed her. "How much turns did you two go back? Is he safe?" she asked. He released her from hug, his faint camouflaged outline checked his wristwatch before listening closely at the door, and replied without turning back to her, "He is safe. Don't worry. We have 1 minute left." They were moving again. In the last corridor, Harry waved his wand, dispelling his various charms, as the Hospital Wing door opened and Dumbledore's back appeared.

They heard Dumbledore say something to the occupants of the hospital wing, and both of them hurried forward. Dumbledore looked up, a wide smile on his face, quite reminiscent of a small kid who had stolen a cookie from right under his mother's nose and gotten away with it. "Well?" he asked quietly.

"Done." Replied Harry, equally quietly, "I would suggest that you open up your office fireplace floo, sir. Madame Bones must be on her way, to begin a proper investigation in this whole case."

Dumbledore raised a surprised eyebrow at him, "You certainly seemed to have made quite an effective use of your _time_, Harry. Very well." He raised his wand, made an elaborate motion which ended with a snap like sound, like an electric switch signalling opening of his floo. Then gestured them inside the doors, and locked the doors with a click behind them.

Madame Pomfrey was soon fussing over them, handling them chocolate which they silently accepted, while they waited, listening, nerves on edge. They were on their 4th piece of chocolate when they heard a distant furious scream.

"What was that?" asked Madame Pomfrey, alarmed.

They could hear angry voices nearing, now discernable as belonging to Snape and Fudge. The door flew open, Snape striding in, his face etched in fury, followed by Fudge and Dumbledore. Dumbledore looked calm, actually, he seemed to be enjoying himself. The same mischievous smug smile still on his face.

"OUT WITH IT, POTTER! Snape bellowed, "WHAT DID YOU DO?"

Madam Pomfrey was about to say something, when Harry suddenly stood up and walked up to Snape until they stood almost nose to nose. Harry seemed to have changed in a few seconds. He seemed to have grown taller, and although he was still shorter than Snape, he stared down at him. Hermione noticed that his face had changed too. Not morphed or transformed like Polyjuice Potion. It held a stony expression with a mixture of smugness and derision. His lips curled in the same slight confident slight cocky smirk. Shadows seemed to suddenly cling to his face, while his eyes shone forth, two brilliant green emeralds, that held that same mad mischievous gleam, reminiscent of Sirius. It was the same face, but still Hermione could say that she had never seen that careless, don't-give-a-damn-expression on his face, and it made him look like a very different person. She heard a gasp from Madam Pomfrey, even Dumbledore raised a surprised eyebrow for a moment.

But the reaction from Snape was most profound. It looked like he had been slapped in face, then punched in the gut. His anger had evaporated, replaced by an expression of shock and dread. It was as if, in muggle expression, he had seen a ghost. His face went white, beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, his hands trembled, his steps seemed to falter, for a moment it looked like he was having a panic attack, then he turned around and fled as quickly from the hospital wing, as he had entered, looking back at Harry all the time until he reached the doors.

Everyone stood still for a moment, amazed at the spectacle, shifting their gaze from Harry to the spot Snape had disappeared and back, until Fudge broke the silence, "Fellow seems quite unbalanced, Dumbledore."

"Oh, he has just suffered a great disappointment," replied Dumbledore quietly.

Harry's expression relaxed and with a clearly false politeness, "I am sorry, Minister, for this spectacle and if my ramblings last time were a bit disconcerting, you know so much exposure to Dementors and such a traumatic experience and the case being so close to my parents' murder, well you can say it was nerve rattling"

Hermione stared at Harry, surprised at the sudden change in attitude and curious of what he was playing at. Fudge shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably as if not sure what to make of it, looking at Harry warily, "Of course, of course. I understand my dear boy. But I should be leaving now, _Daily Prophet _is going to crucify the ministry over this fiasco."

Harry just gave him a understanding nod, "Of course sir, but I don't think it'd be wise to walk up to the gates with a werewolf lurking around." Fudge blanched at the sudden realization. Harry continued, "I think it would be much safer to use floo, if headmaster would be so kind as to let you use his fireplace. And I have a small matter of _mutual benefit _to discuss while you are on the way to professor's office. And it might even help you with your problems with the papers."

Both of them looked at Dumbledore, who just gave them a nod and a curious smile, quite like a spectator at some play, waiting for it to reach its climax.

Madame Pomfrey seemed to be near to having a fit but didn't say anything and turned to Hermione, "Very well Miss Granger. Into the bed. It seems Mr. Potter has more _pressing _matters to attend." Putting as much bite into 'pressing' as possible.

Hermione was dejected. She too, just as Dumbledore seemed, was hoping to see it all to an end. "Actually, I was hoping to bring along Hermione, Madam Pomfrey. She has been through it all with me and can help us with some details which I might overlook," spoke up Harry as if reading her mind, and gave her a wink. Madame Pomfrey opened her mouth, about to say something, but Dumbledore raised his hand, "It's quite alright, Poppy. I don't think Mr. Potter or Miss Granger are that much injured. I am sure, if any of them feels any slightest discomfort, they will behave responsibly and report back here immediately." Hermione, just to demonstrate that she was fine, leapt nimbly off her bed and hurried to stand besides Harry, nodding furiously, "Of course, sir.", giving the school nurse her best puppy dog expression. Madame pomfrey just gave an angry huff, and turned away towards Ron's bed, muttering to herself angrily about meddling headmasters and reckless children.

Dumbledore turned towards them all and gave a cheerful smile, "Shall we?"

As the four of them walked towards headmaster's office, with Dumbledore leading the procession; Hermione, walking just behind Harry, was bubbling with a thousand questions. But it seemed that for once in his life Harry had a plan, so with an all the strength of her willpower, she kept her mouth shut. They walked in comfortable silence for a few corridors, with Fudge fidgeting with his bowler hat, when Harry broke the silence, "So minister, what is the plan if say, Black crosses the border? Say into France, beyond your jurisdiction?"

Fudge jumped a bit, as if surprised by sudden question, tensed for a moment, before relaxing and jovially patting Harry on his back, and spoke in a patronising voice, "Oh don't worry yourself about that, young Harry, we will alert ICW and get an international warrant issued."

It seemed as if Harry was just waiting for Fudge to say that, "Ah, well but that is the matter I wanted to discuss with you sir. For the warrant you will need a conviction. And for that you need a trial, which Sirius Black never got."

"WWHHAAATT?!" Fudge bellowed out, before turning towards Dumbledore as if seeking confirmation. "It's true," Dumbledore replied sombrely. Before Fudge could say anything else, Harry pressed on, "Imagine the scandal it would cause if public comes to know that; in addition that the apparent betrayer of my parents is living a free man, on a mere technical oversight. And Merlin forbid, a less honest minister than you in some distant future, were to sign a pardon on this technicality... It would be nothing but grievous insult to the justice system and to my parents' sacrifice."

Fudge seemed to be shocked into silence. Hermione could clearly see various scenarios playing right in front of his eyes. She could also see where Harry was going with this, and could barely contain the anticipation building up inside her. "And that too, a fault of not yours, but of Bagnold administration." Harry added, almost as an afterthought.

Fudge suddenly seemed to come back to his senses, "Yes! Of course! It's not my fault at all. It's all a mess created by Bagnold and...and..and Crouch. Yes, Crouch was the head of the tribunal at that time, before the mess with his son. Yes it's all Crouch's and Bagnold's fault. We can clearly place the blame where it lies in the papers."

Harry merely shook his head in amusement, "Ah, but sir, you know how the public opinion works, easily swayed, looking for the most convenient scapegoat."

Fudge seemed again, to be at a loss for words, "But...but..."

Harry however smiled, as if a performer reaching the end of his trick, "However, sir, if you call for an open court trial," letting the words sink in for a moment, Fudge almost hanging on to his every word, "even if he is absent, it will be a conviction-in-absentia, and you will be hailed for your foresight where the previous administration failed."

Fudge seemed to perk up at this. "Yes...yes, that is actually the most logical route."

Harry kept going on, "And if he does come, and is proven guilty, he is back in Azkaban, where he belongs, and you are proclaimed a hero; who did with a swish of quill, what the whole DMLE, Madame Bones and all her men couldn't do in a whole year."

Fudge seemed almost giddy at this, and there was a spring in his steps as if he was trying to hurry back to his office and get it done at this instant.

"And if he does, by any chance, however miniscule, get proven innocent, you become a champion of justice, who corrected the grave miscarriage of justice, and earn the favour of the head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black." Then lowering his voice in a conspiring tone he added, "And we both know, the fortunes of house of Malfoy are nothing but mere pittance against the coffers of house of Black." Then straightening up, he added, in a solemn and formal voice, "And in any case, the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter is forever grateful to you for bringing a lawful closure to the deaths of its last lord and lady."

It seemed as if Christmas has arrived much earlier for Fudge, "Of course you are right, Harry my boy. I will contact Madame Bones at once to begin the paperwork for setting up a trial. I will need your assistance, as chief warlock, of course, Albus."

They had come to a stop at the bottom of the staircase leading to the headmaster's office, in front of a griffin gargoyle. Dumbledore turned, his eyes staring at Harry appraisingly, before nodding to Fudge, "Of course Cornelius. And it seems as the luck would have it, Madame Bones arrived by floo only moments ago. Minerva is entertaining her at the moment in my office. She seems to have received a tip about Sirius's recapture. Acid pops."

The gargoyle leapt aside to allow them the passage to headmaster's office. They all ascended the stairs lost in their own thoughts, with Fudge muttering to himself and stealing glances now and then towards Harry.

Hermione, during this whole time was in awe. If she had not known Harry before, she would have bet that he was a Slytherin. He had masterfully cornered the Minister of Magic right where he wanted, in less than the 10 minutes it took, to walk from Hospital Wing to Headmaster's Office.

The door opened on its own and Hermione's attention was soon diverted. It was the first time Hermione had been in Headmaster's office, and she wished she had a few pair of eyes more. One corner seemed to be devoted to books, rare tomes, filled with ancient and arcane knowledge and mysteries; on one side an entire shelf was over-flowing with various magical gadgets, whirling, spinning, making strange sounds, one that was puffing various coloured smoke now and then. Her attention was again distracted by a soothing and calming music, which seemed to be a birdsong, towards the headmaster's desk, besides which on an ornate golden perch stood Professor Dumbledore's Phoenix, Fawkes about whom Harry had told her last year. But listening its description or reading it in a book was nothing compared to seeing it with her own eyes. It seemed to be made up of some ethereal fire made solid. Its feathers red, crimson, saffron and gold. It's body a somewhat cross between a peacock and a falcon.

Fawkes spread its wingspan and in one beat glided through air to perch upon Harry's right shoulder and nuzzled his hair. Harry gave a scratch on its head, just behind the plumage, to which Fawkes gave a trilling song-like sigh. The tiredness Hermione was starting to feel from such a long night began to wash off, and a new fresh breath seemed to flow through her. So this was the reason professor Dumbledore always seemed to be in such good spirits, she mused.

Everyone seemed entranced by the play between the bird and Harry, when a sudden clearing of throat broke everyone out of it. "Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, I assume you both have a valid reason to be out of your beds so late in night?" Hermione stiffened and straightened her back immediately at the curt and sharp voice of her Head of House, instinctively alarmed at being caught out of bounds after curfew, before realizing that she had been with the headmaster all this time.

"Of course, Professor." Harry piped up. Professor McGonagall looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to complete his excuse, but Harry just gave her a cheeky grin. McGonagall did a double take, so did Hermione, the grin and the attitude, so unlike him. McGonagall huffed, and still watching Harry curiously, spoke through gritted teeth, "So, pray, do tell, Mr. Potter, the reason for your and Miss Granger's late night shenanigans."

But before Harry could reply, Professor Dumbledore interrupted them, "It's alright, Minerva. They were with me the whole time."

At that moment, Hermione noticed the 3 other people in the room. Near the headmaster's desk Fudge was speaking urgently to a formidable looking red-haired woman, who seemed to be in her mid thirties, wore a monocle and official ministry robes. Suddenly their conversation ceased and she looked sharply towards both Harry and Hermione. She had that particular presence about her, not unlike Professor McGonagall, which commanded attention and respect, and Hermione just knew that this must be Madame Bones, about whom they were just talking. She just seemed to be the kind of person, whom you could trust with the security of the nation.

"Ah, Madame Bones!" Dumbledore spoke, "How are you doing, this evening?"

"Fine, Professor Dumbledore." She acknowledged him evenly, before turning towards Harry and Hermione enquiringly.

Hermione suddenly felt quite intimidated under her gaze, Harry moved forward, and gracefully shook hands with her, "Harry Potter, ma'am. Accompanied by Miss Hermione Granger, my best friend."

She merely nodded, before speaking, "Minister Fudge just informed me that Sirius Black never received a Trial, and that the source of this information is you. Now since I know that no one has ever asked for the trial records for Sirius Black, I am curious how you came upon such information."

"WWHHAATT?!" Professor McGonagall couldn't stop herself, before covering her mouth with her hand. Colour seemed to drain from her face.

"I came to know of it from the mouth of the person in question himself", Harry replied, turning back towards Madame Bones.

Professor McGonagall seemed to be losing whatever colour seemed to be remaining in her face.

"You want me to believe that you met with Sirius Black, had a conversation with him, and he let you just go? Unharmed?" asked Madame Bones disbelievingly.

"Indeed I do ma'am, and even if it does sound a bit strange, rest assured the rest of the tale is even stranger. And if headmaster would be kind enough to let us use his Pensieve, we can clear up this whole issue beyond doubt." Harry replied.

Dumbledore appeared surprised at this, "Why, of course, please I would insist upon it, but I would like to ask Mr. Potter how he came to know about my Pensieve?"

Harry just gave a small grin and answered, "Why professor it appears that you never knew my father and godfather?", before gently lifting Fawkes on his forearm and placing him back on its perch. Then he proceeded to put his wand tip to his temple and pulling out a faint glowing silvery strand of what looked like fibres of some sort, which were neither solid, nor liquid, but seemed both all the same. Dumbledore seemed to accept the answer and conjured a small vial, into which Harry placed those strands. Before Hermione could stop herself, a sound of half formed question escaped her, which she tried to stop, but was noticed by everyone, "Sorry," she mumbled, embarrassed to see everyone looking towards her, "but I was just wondering what a Pensieve is?" she asked in a slightly more firm voice.

Professor Dumbledore beamed at her, "No apologies are necessary Miss Granger. Asking questions is the only way we can learn, something which I have always endeavoured to encourage among my students. As for your question, it is a very rare magical artefact, used to view memories from a person. And I assume these are of the encounter between Mr. Potter, you, Mr. Weasley and Sirius Black," he asked turning towards Harry, who merely nodded.

As Dumbledore led the minister, Madame Bones and Professor McGonagall to a small cabinet on one side of the office, Hermione finally noticed the two other people who had accompanied Madame Bones. One was a tall, bald, dark skinned male, with broad shoulders, who gave an impression of calm and composed presence, while his companion, who couldn't be more different from him, a medium height tall, young woman who appeared to be in her twenties, was a riot of colours, from her bubblegum pink hair to her bright purple weird sisters t-shirt, under her crimson official auror robe and her black dragon hide combat boots, who looked to be barely able to keep herself from bouncing in excitement.

Madame Bones turned towards both of them, "Kingsley," she addressed the tall man, "you are with me, as witness. Professor McGonagall can stand in as another witness?" Professor McGonagall merely nodded in response to her unasked question. "Auror Tonks," she said, looking towards the young woman, "keep watch. I trust you know the protocol. Mr. Potter, how long should we expect to be in the pensieve?"

"About 15 minutes, I think, ma'am." Replied harry.

All the adults in the room, bar Auror Tonks, huddled around faintly glowing dish like object, the Pensieve and bent forward till their faces were submerged in it. Hermione craned her neck trying to discern the rare and wonderful magical artefact when her attention was interrupted by an excited squeal.

It was Auror Tonks, as she pounced upon Harry, who easily caught her in his arms with a grunt, before giving him a sloppy kiss right on his lips.

"Eww Dora. That's gross. How many times do I have to tell you to not do it?" Harry yelled at her. But she just laughed dismissively, "Oh, don't complain, Kit, you know that you enjoy it when I do it!"

And then dipped her face down again as if to kiss him again, but this time Harry was prepared and raised his head slipping his tongue in her mouth,

"Eww Harry, that's gross...we are like second or third cousins something!" shrieked Tonks and jumped away from him.

"Never stopped you Blacks before!" replied back Harry without missing a beat.

Hermione was shocked. First of all there were so many questions shooting off in her mind that she didn't know where to begin. Then, secondly, Harry was suddenly behaving in a way she had never seen or expected him to do before. It was like he had had an entire personality transplant. And Hermione had had enough. She wanted answers, and she wanted then right then. She crossed her arms across her chest, tapped her foot, cleared her throat and raised an inquiring eyebrow.

Harry and Tonks turned towards her sharply, as if they had entirely forgotten about her. Harry gulped, and raised his hand to ruffle his hair, Hermione's eyes following his hand, mentally noting down this gesture in her growing list of things that changed about Harry.

Harry began, "Err, sorry about that. We got carried away. So, yes, introductions, Dora, this is Hermione Granger. Hermione, let me introduce you to, Junior Auror Nymphadora Tonks."

"DON"T CALL ME THAT!" Junior Auror Nymphadora Tonks interrupted sharply.

"...who hates her first name," Harry continued, ignoring the interruption, "and prefers to be known as simply Tonks. In some circles she also goes by the name of Adara Black, Heir and Shield-maiden of the House of Black. She is a cousin of Sirius."

"So, you are Hermione Granger. Harry has told me so much about you." Tonks said, excitedly and giving her a tight hug.

"Err...pleasure to meet you too, auror Tonks..." replied Hermione, hesitatingly, totally thrown off by the unusual over-familiarity of the greeting and her bubbly personality.

"Please, just call me Tonks. All right, now introductions are out of way. Back to work, Buckbeak is safe at the Potter estate, and Sirius is waiting for your Patronus at 12 Grimm. I think, if the rest of it also goes according to our plan, we can chalk this up as another victory for team Lupard." Harry and Tonks did a complicated punch-high five-handshake, and then suddenly her mouth morphed into a wolf snout and she gave out a howl.

Harry just shook his head at that all the while he took out a flask from his pocket, took a large swig from it, made a yucky face, shuddered for a moment, before straightening again. Hermione goggled at Tonks while her face returned to its previous state. "Show off." Snorted Harry. "She is a Metamorphmagus, it's an inborn power" he replied to Hermione's curious expression. Understanding dawned on her face. Of course. She had read about them and they were very, very rare. She raised a questioning eyebrow towards the flask in his hand to which he replied, "Polyjuice, masking the difference in body structure from the loop in time."

"Difference in body structure? HARRY JAMES POTTER! Just how much time did the two of you idiot fools went back that it changed your body structure?" Hermione wanted to yell more, ask more questions, but before she could do that or Harry answer back, they were interrupted by the 5 people emerging from the Pensieve.

Apart from Dumbledore, no one seemed composed. Fudge seemed trembling from the implications, Madame Bones appeared seething at the miscarriage of justice, McGonagall was oscillation between deep sorrow and fiery rage, and auror Kingsley appeared to be in deep troubling thought.

Everyone appeared to start speaking at once, but then the calm voice of Dumbledore cut through all the din, "Cornelius, it seems there has been a grave injustice. I think a preliminary trial in presence of the minister of magic, the chief warlock and head of the DMLE, before a full open trial would be the best course of action."

"Of...Of course, Albus. Are you sure that the memories are correct?" Fudge seemed once again to be unnerved.

"Of course, minister. You know how difficult it is to make fake memories, and those too are easily detectable. It was an original memory, from my experience." Madame Bones replied, she seemed to be keeping control of herself with great difficulty. She turned towards Dumbledore, "So Albus, how do you propose to contact Sirius and bring him here for the preliminary trial?"

Professor Dumbledore turned his eyes to Harry, "Mr. Potter seems to be full of surprises today. Maybe he would like to surprise us yet once again?" In response, Harry just raised his wand, gave it a swish, and like his concealing spells before, silently cast the patronus charm. A huge stag made up of silvery ethereal light, yet seemingly defined and solid flowed from the wand tip. Its magnificent size which appeared large even over the vast expanse of the lake, now appeared much more so in the confines of the office. It was easily taller than average human height, without even counting its antlers. Hermione could understand, if this was animagus form of James Potter, how he could keep Professor Lupin in check. Harry stared in its eyes and spoke in clear firm voice, "Padfoot, its time." Then closed his eyes and appeared to concentrate and the patronus vanished in a flash of light.

"I think he will be using the floo." Harry said turning to the others, all of whom were staring at him in awe. "What? Have I got something on my face?"

Everyone else seemed to be in too much shock to make a coherent sentence. Madame Bones began, "Was... was that a corporeal patronus?"

"And cast silently too?" added Kingsley astonished.

McGonagall who seemed to be recovering from the shock of knowing the misfortune of one of her cubs, spoke with a hint of pride in her voice, "And did you use Lily's communication spell with it?"

Tonks merely beamed at him and made kissy faces at him from behind everyone's back. Dumbledore was again looking at Harry as if trying to put pieces of a puzzle together, while Fudge merely goggled at the casual display of magic.

Harry just gave an embarrassed grin, shrugged nonchalantly and raised his hand to ruffle his hair making it stick out at ends again. McGonagall looked at him sharply at his action before a strange expression came over her face.

"Your father used to do this all the time." It was Madame Bones who spoke removing her monocle, cleaning it with the hem of her robe and putting it back on, "I was 2 years ahead of him at both Hogwarts and Auror Academy." She added at Harry's questioning expression.

They were interrupted by a sudden flare of green light, and Sirius Black stepped out of the fireplace. But he too, Hermione noticed, like Harry, had changed. But much more drastically. His cheeks had filled out, he had a properly trimmed French style beard and his skin seemed to be quite tanned and healthy. His long hair were clean, even shiny, and were tied back elegantly in a neat pony tail. He wore a black dragon hide biker's jacket which seemed to be tailor made for him and fit perfectly on his tall, lean and graceful frame. He seemed to have muscled up quite a bit too and walked confidently in long, easy, graceful strides as if he owned the place. Heavy combat boots, which suspiciously looked to be of the same type as Tonks', made soft but firm sound on the wooden floor. Instead of a man on the run from law and living in wild for over an year, he looked like a man at the prime of his health. His handsome face and clothes lending him a look of an aristocratic prince, out for a night with his friends, rather than a mass murderer about to stand trial. His grey eyes held that same mad mischievous gleam. As Hermione surveyed him, she came to the conclusion that the timescale for which Harry and Sirius went back was not in hours. Not even in days. Even with magic, no one could have healed that much in less than minimum of a month.

Everyone seemed to freeze in shock and surprise at his sudden appearance. Before both Kingsley and Tonks moved in together, wands drawn, and stood between Sirius and rest of them. Fudge again looked to be nervous in the presence of a suspected mass murderer, whom he had spent whole last year trying to hunt down, and who now may well prove to be innocent and was one of the richest men in wizarding England, head of one of the oldest and once most powerful family, to boot.

Amelia strode forward and stood in front of Sirius, between her 2 Aurors. Her face seemed to set in stone. "You understand that you were asked to come for a preliminary hearing?"

Sirius replied in a strangely controlled voice, his eyes took up a guarded expression, "Yes I do, Amelia."

Madame Bones held out her hand, "Your wand. And knife."

Sirius slowly drew out his wand from a wrist holster and a knife from a belt sheath, careful to not startle anyone, mindful of the wands both Aurors held tightly in their hands.

"Your all three knives, Black." Madame Bones said in clipped tone. Sirius gave her a strange smile, shook his head as in amusement, and took out two more knives, one from his back and one from his boot and handed them to her.

Then surprisingly, Madame Bones turned sharply to Tonks, "And all of your weapons too, Auror Tonks."

Strangely enough, apart from Fudge and Hermione, no one found it odd and Tonks without any protest handed over her wand and started pulling out various weapons from various magically hidden holsters and sheaths, a foot long straight dagger, two matching fighting knives, a survival knife in her boot, a mixed assortment of vials and surprisingly enough a handgun, which she kept on headmaster's desk. Fudge's eyes seemed to be widening with every weapon placed on desk. When she was done, Madame Bones nodded at her, "Auror Tonks, you are excused from today's proceedings until their end. You may remain in the room, if you wish, on the condition of non-interference."

Tonks replied in a clear and clipped voice, "I understand ma'am, I wish to remain."

Madame Bones looked at her appraisingly for a moment before nodding and turning to Professor McGonagall, "Minerva, I hope you don't mind acting as the scribe and a witness to these proceedings."

"Of course I don't." Professor McGonagall replied evenly, but it seemed as if she was trying her best to keep her composure. Her eyes were fixed on Sirius.

The next hour passed extremely slowly for Hermione. The minister, Madame Bones and headmaster Dumbledore in his role as chief warlock sat on three chairs behind the large desk, while Sirius sat in a chair in the front of desk. Auror Kingsley stood behind him, wand drawn and held firm. Professor McGonagall sat on the left side of desk, using a Dicta-quill to write down the proceedings. Hermione found herself sitting with Harry and Tonks in a corner, who both sat silently acting as if they didn't know each other. Kingsley administered Veritaserum to Sirius. One after another questions were asked in exceedingly elaborate and ornate language, and as she sat there, near to sleep, Hermione Granger vowed that she would never make law her career choice.

The next thing Hermione remembered, was waking up next morning in the hospital wing, with a small note from Harry on her bedside, informing her that Sirius was cleared of all charges, the news will be printed in the next newspaper, that there will be a more official open trial, which was more of a media circus and just a formality, and that he was going along with Sirius and Tonks but will contact her soon in the holidays. Along with many thanks, and apologies for not meeting before going because of lack of time and him not wishing to wake her after such a long night. As a post-script he had requested her to not tell anyone, not even Ron, about his and Sirius' time trip.

Hermione had, of course, acquiesced to his request. In fact, as she knew that Ron would be angry at being left out of the adventure and at her for keeping the Time-Turner a secret, she had left out the whole Time-Turner incident. She just pretended that she had also just woken up in the morning, and that ministry had captured Sirius and given him a preliminary trial and that Harry had gone as a witness and later on went with Sirius.

But the questions kept running in loops in her mind, and her over active imagination kept playing various possibilities and scenarios, each one more absurd than the last. Oddly enough, one quote kept resurfacing in her mind, 'Reality is oft, stranger than fiction.'

And as that fine early July morning, sunny and warm, found her, sitting under a huge oak in the park in front of her house, she kept growing restless again, with the numerous questions, the answers to which she could not find in a book. Her thoughts were interrupted by the deep thrumming sound of an engine. She raised her eyes towards the road and spied a boy on a motorcycle. He looked to be somewhere between his late teens and early adulthood, wore a black helmet, aviators, a Beatles t-shirt, dark, almost black jeans and a pair of leather, heavy looking combat boots. He seemed to be tall, almost 6 foot, with a lean built and deeply tanned skin. Hermione spied a pair of black Dog tags hanging from his neck.

The motorcycle itself looked directly out of some magazine advertising concept designs. Hermione narrowed her eyes to read the label written on the bike, Confederate Motorcycles, X-132 Hellcat, before realising just how close the motorcycle was to her. In fact it had stopped, right in front of her! The rider had raised his helmets' visor and was looking at her strangely from behind his dark aviators. He was smiling in poorly disguised amusement, as if at a very funny joke.

"G..Good Morning." Hermione stammered out.

The boy gave out a chuckle, gave a pointed look towards the book she held in her hands, The Hobbit, and then with a highly amused grin, replied, "What do you mean? Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?"

Hermione gave out a slight nervous chuckle too, the easy, gentle, and suspiciously familiar smile putting her at some ease.

"All of them at once," she said.

The boy gave another carefree chuckle, seemed to think for a moment about the next line, before speaking, "I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging, and it's very difficult to find anyone."

Hermione blushed at that. A young, hormone laden, teenager brain part of her, jumping to all sorts of conclusions. As far as pick-up lines went, it wasn't half bad, if a bit forward.

The boy too seemed to realise the implications of his words, and began to stammer out an apology, when Hermione's brain finally caught on. She flipped through the book hurriedly, partially to avert her eyes and give her hands something to do, partially to continue the conversation, as she did not remember the next line. "I should think so- in these parts! We are plain folk and have no use of adventures. Let me see, I don't think I know your name?"

The boy gave out a relieved breath, then smiled again, and gently took the book from her hand, read from it for a moment and replied, "Yes, yes, my dear lady- and I do know your name, Miss Hermione Granger."

Hermione's eyes widened and eyebrows shot up in surprise and shock. He knew her name! Was he stalking her? She didn't even live here for 10 months in an year. Was this guy an old muggle school acquaintance? Or a neighbour's son?

The boy however, did not heed her any notice and continued, "And you do know my name, though you don't remember that I belong to it."

'What!? Who is this guy? That smile was a bit recognisable, but it was impossible. Those cheek bones and jaw line did seem familiar, thought Hermione. But as the boy slowly removed his helmet to reveal carelessly tousled raven black hair; and his dark glasses, to reveal bright, enthralling emerald green eyes, realisation dawned upon Hermione. The time scale of Harry's and Sirius's time trip was definitely not in hours or days, or even months. They had gone YEARS back!

"I am Harry Potter, and Harry Potter means me!" he was now plainly laughing at her shocked expression. "To think that I would be Good-Morninged by my best friend of 3 years, as if I was selling buttons at the door!"


	2. Chapter 2

A modern looking motorcycle was parked in the Granger's driveway. The fragrance of coffee seemed to permeate every corner of their house. A small colourful pink and magenta coloured camping tent, glaringly out of place in the tastefully decorated lounge, seemed to be the source. The tent might seem at a single glance to be too small for being the site of brewing coffee, and that would have been true also, had it not been a magical tent. The humble looking camping tent, hid within its folds and fabrics, a comfortable apartment which boasted of 2 bedrooms and a spacious living room with a kitchen area separated by an island.

The tent's living room was sparsely decorated. Just a couple of different bean bags thrown around, 2 recliners and a coffee table was the extent of furniture. The carpet on the floor was worn, the ceiling of the room was conspicuous by its _absence. _Well, it was there if looked sharply, but it was transparent, and showed the sky outside, despite the fact that the tent was erected indoors. The room had a distinct feel of being lived-in by late teenagers or young adults. The walls were painted in dark reds and deep yellows. The wall opposite to the kitchen and the island, housed an enormous fireplace, which at the moment was shuttered off. The wall above the fireplace held two posters, one of a golden lion on red background, and one with a black badger, with a yellow background. The wall on the left had 3 doors, one leading outside the tent, other two to the bedrooms. One door to the bedroom had a huge poster of Weird Sisters, in violet and black hues. The other bedroom door had a Puddlemere United and a Manchester United posters on it. The opposite wall was dominated by photographs.

One large framed photograph had a just-married young couple, both of whom looked to be near their 20s. The groom was a tall and very handsome man and wore rectangular spectacles. His smart, formal wizarding robes, with carelessly tousled raven black hair and a half confident, half cocky smirk on his face, bore an evidence of casual wealth.

The bride, in white wedding dress, looked radiant. She had an unassuming, natural beauty about her. Her deep red to auburn hair, loose with graceful curls; her bright, almost luminous, emerald eyes, brimming with sharp wit and humour; her kind face, lit with a cheeky yet easy-going laugh; her tall, willowy frame, her soft looking features, her smooth, clear, porcelain-white skin, spoke of a personality which no one would ever forget, even after meeting her only once.

Two other men also appeared on either side of the happy couple. One of them had a similar grin as the groom, and looked to be the best man. He wore similar smart and elegant looking robes, and a mad mischievous gleam in his grey eyes, his long black hair fell around his face smoothly, giving him a rebellious, bad-boy persona. The other man, in a simple tweed jacket, had a gentle smile on his face, but in comparison, his face looked a bit aged and had two long scars running across it. His sandy blonde hair, neatly combed and his amber eyes reflected warmth and happiness. Rounding up the wedding picture was a small girl, about 6-7 years old, in a flower girl dress, bouncing on her heels excitedly, with hair continuously changing its length and colour from bubblegum pink to same auburn red as the bride.

One other photograph had the view of a music room, in which 2 ladies were sitting. One was the bride in the previous photograph, wearing a crimson and red, flowing summer dress, with a golden trim. In her hands she fiddled with a flute. The other woman, seemed to be only slightly older. Her face was graced by typical aristocratic features, high cheekbones, a sharp jaw line and a roman nose. Her black hair, pale skin and grey eyes lend her a classical dark beauty. The expression on her face and her elegant and stately robes, in dark greens with silver seams, emanated an air of authority and power. If looked at closely, the resemblance between her and both the groom and the best man in previous photograph was clearly visible. She sat behind a huge elegant piano, her fingers dancing over the keys nimbly, as if eager to play.

Then there were numerous other smaller photographs, of the best man and the flower girl in the first photograph, both grown up about 15 years, with a younger boy of about 14 years with remarkably similar features as the groom but with eyes of the bride, in various poses, at various places, on various occasions. One photograph on the mantle above the fireplace had the young boy, now about 17 years with the flower girl, now in mid 20s, arms around each other's shoulders, grinning proudly and showing off a medal. On the frame, in a bold gothic script was written, 'Team Lupard'.

As Hermione stood in front of the last wall inspecting the photographs, and took a glance towards Harry, who moved about in the Kitchen, she could see why every grown adult who met Harry first time always began with something like, 'You look just like your father, but you have your mother's eyes.' The resemblance was uncanny.

Harry was placing a pair of mugs on the shelf of island. Hermione sat down on a chair opposite to Harry. In his hand he held a steaming, copper brown Italian moka-pot, "It was my mum's. Pad told me that she was a caffeine junkie. Wherever she happened to be living, the fragrance of coffee was the first thing you would always notice. Everyone called it Lily's Hearth." He said quietly, gesturing towards the pot in his hand, as he poured coffee for both of them, with a sad smile tugging at his handsome features.

Hermione felt a strange feeling of loss yet nostalgia settle within her, "Oh, Harry!", she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. She took a sip from her mug, felt the bitter concoction in her mouth and before she could stop herself, spat it out, "Yuck!"

Harry immediately jumped up, "Oops, sorry. I forgot to add milk and sugar in your cup. Tonks and I usually take it black and bitter," he said, giving her an apologetic smile and passing her the milk flask and sugar.

An awkward silence again enveloped the room. Hermione felt as if a strange paper wall had settled between them. He had changed drastically in some respects, but remained same in many others. It was strange, looking at him, all grown up, without his scar or glasses. She quietly added milk and sugar, feeling ridiculous at having to think so hard, just to start a conversation with Harry of all people. Finally, gathering her courage, she asked a bit apprehensively, "So, who is this Pad guy who told you about your mum?"

Harry let out a relieved breath. He too seemed to be feeling a similar tension in air, "Oh its Sirius! You know Padfoot, for short." It looked like he wanted to say something more, but hesitated for a moment, before forging ahead nevertheless, "It is also sort of amalgam between Dad and Pops. We both just didn't feel comfortable enough with me calling him either one of those, so we made a nickname."

Finally, Hermione found an opening to voice all the questions bursting in her head and driving her crazy, "Just how much time did the two of you spend together that you connected so well with him and derived a nickname for him?" and once she opened her mouth once, she found she couldn't stop herself. She felt like a lid had been opened, a valve lifted, "Where did the two of you run off to? From where did you learn all that impressive magic? What happened to your scar? Why are you not wearing glasses? How come you are nearing 6 feet in height?"

"6 feet, 1 & 1/2 inch." Harry corrected, with an amused smile.

But Hermione continued, giving him a sharp glare at the interruption, "Where did you get that motorcycle? Or this tent? Who is that Tonks? And what is your relationship with her?" The moment she said it, she realised what she had asked, and her face grew hot. "Sorry, the last question was inappropriate. But you have changed so much and I feel so out of loop, and ...am worried about you, which seems a bit odd since you are sitting here well and fine, and I know it sounds crazy, but I am feeling worried about what all might have happened with you during the time you were gone..." she rambled off, a faint embarrassed blush forming on her cheeks.

Harry gave a chuckle, waving away her apology. Taking a sip from his coffee, he spoke, "Well, Dora is, as I said that night in Dumbledore's office, Sirius's cousin and his heir. As for my relationship with her..."

"You don't have to tell me," Hermione added hurriedly.

But Harry shook his head in a reassuring manner, "Dora and me have a, you can say, unconventional relationship. She is my teacher, an elder sister, a best friend, a partner-in-crime, a fellow prankster. She is..." he thought for a moment, "what Sirius was to my father. But on the other hand," here he gave her a crooked grin, waggling his eyebrows, "we have done things with each other that are banned in most countries, and highly illegal in several."

Hermione stared at him, gobsmacked. Never in her life had she expected such frankness from Harry. He was always a bit shy about his personal feelings. And now here, he was... So _much _had changed.

"And the time frame?" she asked, not knowing what else to ask, her fingers clenching around her seat, to stabilize herself for any shock.

A proud rebellious grin came over his face, then with a smirk he said, "1 whole year!"

"WWHHHAAATTT?!" Hermione couldn't stop herself.

"..with Sirius at first. Then 3 more years with Tonks." He added smugly.

Hermione felt dizzy. This was too much. He had gone back 4 years! 4 whole years! She wanted to yell at him. She wanted to hug him close for being away for so long, "and...and now you are..." she couldn't decide what she wanted to know first. So instead she went with, "how old are you now?"

Harry seemed surprised at this question, and cautiously replied, "Err...18, this 31st."

"I think we will be needing some more coffee." Hermione said quickly, draining her mug, still shaken. She knew, somewhere deep down that his answer would be in years, but to hear it from him, confirming her doubts, she had no idea what to make of it.

Harry jumped from his seat. "Of course." As he started washing his coffee pot, and boiling water, Hermione's brain whirled and whizzed, processed and analysed the new information, and came to one conclusion, she needed more information, "I think it would be better if you start the whole story from the beginning, _in detail, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, _rather than me asking random questions and getting a haphazard narrative."

Harry sighed and turned towards her, "Listen. A lot of what I will tell you is dangerous information." She opened her mouth to object, but stopped after seeing his serious expression, "All I request you is that you let me or preferably Andromeda teach you Occlumency. It's the art..."

"I know what Occlumency is!" Hermione spoke indignantly.

"Right..of course, sorry." Harry gave her a sheepish grin, then added, "and yeah, some of the information, is classified information. 'Legally' classified, as in bound by oaths and sworn in. So, I won't be able to tell you that."

Hermione could understand that, not much gladly though, but she would take whatever she could and gave him a reluctant nod.

Harry pulled off the pot from stove, poured her coffee in a larger mug, picked up a jar of cookies from a shelf and placed it along with her mug.

Harry placed his hand on his chin, in deep thought, "I think it'd be better to start from a little before the 'trip'. In my Divination exam, Trelawney went into a Trance and gave a Prophecy." Hermione snorted at this, to which Harry gave her an indulgent smile, "A 'certified' real prophecy."

"What!" Hermione spat out. This has to be a joke! "Harry, you as well as I know, that despite the fact that I respect all the teachers, Professor Trelawney is. A. Fraud."

"It was certified by the Unspeakables, Hermione." Harry spoke quietly. "And half of it has already been fulfilled."

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. "And wh...what did it say?" she asked slowly, sure that she was not going to like the answer.

"I don't remember the exact words, but it just said that a servant of a dark lord, which may or may not refer to Voldemort, but it would be prudent to assume it is him... Nevertheless, the servant, long chained or bound will get free and set out to find his master, and that the dark lord will rise again with his help, more powerful and terrible than before."

"Peter Pettigrew!" whispered Hermione, horrified.

Harry nodded his head gravely, and with only a half-joking voice said, "There's an East Wind coming, Watson."

Hermione gave out a slight chuckle at the nickname, but then got serious again, "Did you tell anyone about it? Professor Dumbledore? I think we should tell him immediately. He'll know what to do." Harry just snorted at this.

"What?" asked Hermione irritated. Why was he not taking it seriously? Even if he was 18 and she was 14, did the burden of being responsible still fell upon her?

Harry raised his hands in a gesture of peace and said, "Let's not be too hasty, young Hobbit, and just look at Dumbledore's track record against Voldemort alone, before jumping to conclusions." Hermione sat down again, intrigued. Harry continued, "The wizarding world, under his leadership, 'lost' the first war. They were on the verge of surrender, when _mum defeated Voldemort_." Hermione noticed his words carefully, but found she had nothing to say otherwise. "People like Malfoy, Crabbe and Snape walked free, while Sirius languished in that...that..fucking place!" There was so much venom in his voice, that it shook Hermione.

Harry took a deep breath, and calmed himself, "Sorry, it's a touchy subject among us, Azkaban." He spat out the word. "Well, carrying on, in first year, he almost lost the Philosopher's stone, in second year, it wasn't him who saved Ginny and stopped school from closing, and in third year, he didn't get the trial for Sirius, despite him being the Chief Warlock." He quickly counted out on his fingers. Then leaning forward, in a very serious and slow voice he said, "He is a great man, no doubt, but he is not a warrior, or a war leader. He is a mixture of a monk and a geek, a prisoner of his own Ivory Tower, with a huge God Complex. He is a Phoenix, like his patronus, magnificent and venerable, which once in a while may come to the rescue of mortals, but is an aloof and indifferent creature, to whom the pains and struggles of the mortals don't matter as long as 'The Greater Good' is not affected."

Hermione, for the want of a better word, was stupefied. It all did sound logical, but she did not want to believe it. It was like someone snatching away her security blanket. It was a frightening prospect- A prophecy of Lord Voldemort's return and Dumbledore not being a semi god-like being she wanted him to be.

"Do you like Pizza?" Harry asked, out of the blue.

"What!" Hermione asked, jarred out of her thoughts. "Where did that come from?"

"Well, Tonks always went for a Pizza and beer, whenever she is undergoing some life-changing thought..." Harry shrugged.

"I can't have alcohol. But I won't mind a pizza. It's about lunch time too. Let me go and order." She replied, a bit relieved to move over from such a heavy matter.

"Oh, don't worry, I can make it here only. And I have some Butterbeer", he said, crouching and pulling out a couple of bottles from a small cupboard under the stove.

Hermione was amazed. This was really surprising. A small voice in her head asked her to get prepared for one of the worst pizzas of her lifetime. "You can cook?"

A dark shadow seemed to pass over his face, before clearing away as soon as it had appeared. "Yeah, like Sirius or Tonks can cook without blasting off the entire house." He retorted.

Hermione got the distinct impression that there was something he was not telling her, he always had a similar expression whenever she had asked him about his life before Hogwarts, so she didn't pry.

As he moved around in the kitchen, gathering and preparing the ingredients, she asked, for the sake of conversation, "So, dog tags?" He froze mid-way suddenly, and Hermione knew, it was yet one other topic she should not have asked. He slowly turned around, hesitation clear in his eyes, and a part of Hermione wanted to ask him to just drop the topic, but a part of her was getting irritated at the lack of concrete answers and wanted to know more.

Harry gave out a sigh, as if coming to a conclusion. He removed the dog tags from around his neck and handed them to her. She inspected them closely, black metal, in rubber like casings, one of them had simple information.

'Harry Potter.

DoB- 31st Oct, '80

Father- James Potter

Mother- Lily Potter'

The other one had Hogwart's shield and motto on it, 'Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus'

Hermione gave him a questioning look, but his back was again turned away from her as he once again moved about kitchen, preparing lunch. He spoke quietly, "It is not a dog tag. The first tag is my transfigured primary school identity card." He gave a sigh, his back still turned towards her, but he had stopped moving, his gaze seemed to be fixed upon the wall, "I was five years old. They gave out Identity cards to each one of us. Brand new, laminated. It was the first thing that I remember ever owning, which was not second hand or picked up from a charity box. And for the first time in my life, I came to know, that I too had a name. I was not just a 'boy' or 'freak'. I was Harry Potter. I too had a birthday. I too, like everyone else, had parents, and their name was James and Lily Potter. It was, till my Hogwarts letter, my most prized possession. It was what I was. My identity. The Hogwarts letter, which Hagrid gave me, is the second tag. My key to freedom, to a better life."

Hermione felt her eyes tear up. She felt torn, she felt sick. She knew his life at home was not good, but had no idea it was that bad. She wanted to get up and hug him, but she just sat there immobile, unsure, "I am sorry, I shouldn't have asked." She said quietly.

Harry turned and gave her a small reassuring smile, "It's okay. Ted, Dora's father, he's a Healer, advised me to share such things with my close friends, helps to get over them."

He turned back to chopping vegetables and grating cheese. A somewhat comfortable silence enveloped the room. She knew that she would get all the facts and that her impatience was futile. If he had specially come over to visit her, he will definitely tell her the whole thing. So she settled her mind and waited for him to begin. He suddenly noticed the Butterbeer bottles he had pulled out. He held one up, and in front of Hermione's eyes, condensation started appearing on the bottle, starting from where his hand touched it. "Wand-less magic?" she asked, giving up on adding surprise to her voice. 'Patience', she told herself. 'He will tell you everything, like he did in 1st and 2nd year.'

He merely nodded, and handed her the chilled bottle, before picking up the dog tags and putting them around his neck.

After putting the pizza in the oven, he took a deep gulp from his bottle, and then said, "I think I have stalled the story enough."

On Hermione's eager nod, he started, "Very Well. So we start after leaving the Astronomy tower. Sirius guided Buckbeak to a small cave just outside the Hogsmeade. The plan was simple, we were to go a few hours back, stay in that cave and talk, get to know each other, maybe make a plan to get him a trial. Then when the time was nearing, I was to return to Hogwarts from one of the secret passages and he was to wait for 'us' to come and use time-turner. Then he will take 'their' Buckbeak and fly off."

Hermione nodded, it was quite like what she had imagined, and it was quite sensible too, considering everything.

"Well, when the time came for us to use the Time-Turner, as usual, my luck struck. Sirius fumbled a bit and the next thing we remember is waking up at the same place to bright sunlight. We both, understandably freaked out, and ran down to the village, him in his dog form, and me under a glamour charm. But oddly, nothing much had changed, except that no Dementors were present, no Wanted posters of Sirius. We stole a newspaper from a newsstand and lo and behold! It had a story celebrating closure of chamber of secrets, waking up of the petrified students and that Hogwarts was not going to be closed. It was dated 7th June 1993. We had travelled one whole year back!" Harry spoke quickly as if ripping off a bandage, and cowered slightly in fear of her wrath.

Hermione uncharacteristically found herself fascinated and at the sight of his defensive posture, rolled her eyes upwards, shaking her head in amusement, "Only you, Harry! Only you."

Harry straightened up and relaxed, took a sip from his bottle, looked back at oven to check the pizza, and turned back to his narrative, "After that, we were of course dazed for a moment, but then we realised that since Sirius was never convicted and there were as yet no look-out notices for him, we could get a lot of things done. Our first stop was Ollivander's. We went to Diagon Alley under Glamour charms but you know how he is, all creepy and mysterious." Harry described, wiggling his fingers, "He knew who we were, the moment we entered his shop. But, surprisingly or unsurprisingly, he didn't even raise an eyebrow at us and fitted Sirius with a wand."

So far, so good, thought Hermione.

He had settled in his usual calm and slow story-telling voice, "Our next stop was Gringott's. The goblins also didn't bat any of their three eyelids at our appearance and we were ushered to the Black Family Account Manager. There we found out that the last Head of the family, Sirius's grandfather, Arcturus Black had passed away in '91. As Sirius's father was long dead, the position fell to him."

Here Hermione interrupted, "Head of the family? What does that entail?"

"Head of the families can act _in loco parentis _for all the family members, are the executors of all family wills, hold the keys and the ledger of the family account. The ownership of the Family properties, and the Family Grimoire." Harry replied.

Hermione let out an impressed "Wow."

"Well, moving on, he took on the Headship ring." At Hermione's inquisitive look, he elaborated, "If you are the legitimate head, you can call upon your magic, accepting the position, and the ring materialises on your finger. It holds the keys to the vaults and properties, seats in Wizengamot or Hogwarts School Board. Also the family Grimoire is stored inside the ring."

Hermione was intrigued. "A whole Grimoire? Inside a ring?"

"The Family Grimoires are not in a book form, Hermione. They are mostly semi-sentient memories, kind of like portraits. All the major family information, all the spells invented, discovered, stolen or otherwise are stored in them along with potion recipes, family secrets and legends, rituals' runes, all of them stored in the form of memories. It is like a miniature Pensieve. To use it, you need to concentrate on the Grimoire and then the information you want, and you will get access to the desired information. That's not to say that all the information just flows into your brain. It is like a book, a portrait, within your mind. You have to read it to get the information. Then you have to understand it, like you would with any book, and to get proficient in any spell or ritual, you have to practice hard, like anyone else. It is a bit difficult to describe it to someone in words.", Harry explained.

He raised his right hand in front of her face and for the first time, Hermione noticed a simple ring, inscribed with runes, on his right index finger. Harry spoke, "It is the Headship ring of the House of Potter. Dora wears the Heir's ring of the House of Black, and if she has to sign her name as the Heir of House of Black, she will sign as Adara Black, Daughter of Sirius Black. The Heir's ring is, of course subservient to the Headship ring, and while it can get access to the Grimoire and the family vault, it needs the permission from the head."

Hermione was impressed. This was a fantastic piece of magic. Whole books, scrolls, libraries, shrunken into a single ring. She made a mental note to check this out once she got back to Hogwarts library. She wanted to ask him more about it, and as if reading her thoughts, he said, "All in good time, my dear young Hobbit. All in good time. But first we must go on with the story. After taking up the ring, he was handed a huge boatload of parchment. Pending wills, property statistics, gold flow rate, the banking stuff. As he had been adopted by my grandparents, and was my legal guardian, he summoned the Potter Family Account Manager, and took the Steward's position of House of Potter. Since I was not of age at that time, he guided me in summoning the Heir's ring of House of Potter."

Harry paused to take a breath, finished his bottle and went to check the oven. While he took the pizza out of the oven, he continued his story, "While he dealt with the parchment-work, I went down to the Potter Family Vault. I found these two photographs, one of mum and dad's wedding, and the other of mum and grandma, in the vault," he carried pointing towards the photographs on the wall, "along with a lot of other interesting stuff..." Hermione just knew in her guts that he both wanted to tell her about it and keep it all to himself at the same time. It was reasonable, for a boy, who grew up without anyone or anything.

"Your mum was really beautiful, Harry." She told him softly to comfort him.

He smiled, laid out the pizza on a plate, sliced it and placed it in front of Hermione. Hermione so far lost in his story-telling, was again reminded by the small voice in her head that she should have declined his offer to cook and instead ordered out. Apprehensively she took a bite, but an appreciative moan escaped her throat. "It is really good, Harry." She had to compliment him. While not a perfect pizza, but as far as home-made pizzas go, it was one of the best she had had. Harry ducked his head and gave a small shy smile and clear as the daylight filtering from the ceiling, she could see the remnants of the Harry she knew since last 3 years.

Both of them bit into their pizza slices. Then he carried on, "When I had had my fill, I returned with an old trunk Sirius had described and requested me to bring. Sirius was sitting with three other people. It was the Tonks family. Andromeda, or Andy, Sirius's cousin. Her Husband Ted and daughter Dora. It was a quite an emotional reunion. Sirius had asked them to come via the goblins and then taken an oath of truth, before explaining our whole situation to them. He brought them all back into the Black family..."

"Brought back?" Hermione asked.

"Well, the Black family, apart from Sirius and Andy, were all pureblood fanatics. They sort of considered themselves the royalty among the purebloods. When Andy married Ted, who is a muggle-born, she was disowned, that is, barred all access to family money and properties, even the use of the surname. So was Sirius, by the way, when he ran away in his 5th year Easter holidays, to my grandparents' home. However when the Blacks thought that he had joined Lord Voldemort and betrayed my parents, his Grandfather re-instated him back." Harry explained.

Hermione nodded her head and went back to her pizza. "And you know what, Andy and Mrs. Malfoy, as in Draco's mother, are sisters." Harry added incredulously.

Hermione just raised her eyebrows, unsurprised, "That's not much surprising, Harry. Most of the pure-blood families are related to each other one way or the other. In fact, looking at your grandma's photo, I can deduce that either she was also a Black, or related to them."

Harry conceded her the point, "Oh, well yeah. Her maiden name was Dorea Black. Andy believes that she is the source from whom my Dad got the legendary Black madness."

"Black madness?" asked Hermione.

"Oh, well, it is this irresistible urge to do mad things, pull pranks like Marauders, jump on mountain trolls' back to save fair Damsel-in-Distress, kind of stuff." He said in a teasing voice at which Hermione narrowed her eyes at him threateningly, but then smiled and shook her head. She was starting to like this version of Harry a bit more, this carefree and teasing attitude did suit him well. And though she would never admit it, the way he had handled Snape in the Hospital Wing deserved a standing ovation.

"I guess, the contrast between Andy and Mrs. Malfoy would be as surprising to you as it was for me if you knew Andy. She is cool. You will love her when you meet her. A strong, successful, self-made woman, she can be strict and a bit of a kill-joy, but you can easily notice that she herself hasn't been left untouched by the Black madness. And anyways, you have met Dora. Just compare her to Dorko."

"Dorko? Oh you mean Draco!" Hermione couldn't stop the hearty laugh that bubbled inside her. Harry just gave a light chuckle and stood to pick up the plates and empty bottle. He pulled out two more bottles of Butterbeer, cooled them the same way and handed one to her.

"You do have a point." Hermione said, gasping to steady her breath.

"Sirius called Andy and her two sisters a single Runespoor. Andy was the Planner head, Mrs. Malfoy was the Dreamer head, and their third sister, Bellatrix was the Venomous head." said Harry.

"Bellatrix?" asked Hermione, before raising her bottle to take a sip.

"Bellatrix Lestrange nee' Black. She is considered the maddest and the most fanatic of the death-eaters. She is in Azkaban for..." Harry trailed off, unsure if he should tell, but like earlier continued, "among numerous other crimes, torturing to insanity Frank and Alice Longbottom."

"Longbottom? As in Neville Longbottom?" asked Hermione horrified.

Harry nodded gravely, "His parents." He seemed to get lost in his own thoughts, "A fate worse than death. I don't think they even remember him. And to think, he came so close to share my fate, only to escape and face a much worse one."

"What! What fate?" Hermione was confused now.

"Hmmm!" He suddenly realised he had rambled off, "Sorry, but I think it would be better if you hear the story first and then you will have a better understanding of my words."

Hermione nodded and took another sip from her bottle.

So Harry continued, "Where was I? Ah, yes. Sirius re-instated Andy to the family. He made her the Black family Steward. Her being a lawyer made her a logical choice for it. He did a version of adoption ritual for Dora, christened her Adara Black, and made her his Heir as well as the Shield-maiden of the House of Black." Harry took a pause, before continuing, "Sirius and Andy took us to the ancestral house of Black, 12 Grimmauld Place, in London, and by Merlin, was it creepy!" He gave a mock shudder, slowly shook his head, "It was a dark and dreary place, strange things crawling about, dust, cobwebs, filth, mad paintings yelling profanities, a crazy house-elf trying to murder us, giant spiders, doxies, rogue boggarts. In short, all the cliché stuff you could possibly imagine in a haunted house in a cheap horror flick, except for the absence of ghosts. It was an eerie, spooky place. But then, something even stranger happened."

Harry grinned as if at a fond remembrance, "Sirius and Andy laughing like maniacs, pulled out their wands, and proceeded to start blasting off anything they could find. The bloody idiots would have brought the whole house down upon us had Dora not stopped them. But still, they had literally demolished the insides of half the house by the time we could reign them in. After that, the Planner head of Andy went to work, restructuring the whole architecture of the house, helped by the occasional bouts of 'Planned Demolitions', whenever no one else was around." Harry shook his head again, "Never thought I would meet anyone else who hated the house they grew up in, more than me. Well, now whenever you visit 12 Grimm, you cannot even imagine what it was like before. Whole floor plans have been changed as well as the interior decorations, for better of course. Lets in much more light and air now."

Hermione, for her part was totally engrossed in his tale. They had finished the pizza. Harry motioned her to move in the living room. They took their Butterbeer bottles and fell down upon the two beanbags.

Harry appeared to think for some time, then coming to a conclusion, he began, "I think, I should go a bit concise from here on. We saved a batch of our hair for the Polyjuice potion and the clothes we wore that day along with the Time-Turner in a secure box. 12 Grimm was our home for next few months. Ted, he's a Healer as I said, put us on a strict potion regimen and a physical workout programme. He held several counselling sessions with Sirius. Still does, from time to time. Sirius and I opened up to each other. There were some blue days, then there were some bright pink-hair days. Sirius and Tonkses helped me break out of the shell I had built around myself before Hogwarts. I really hit it off with Dora during that time. Thank Merlin for her. I would have gone crazy sitting indoors all day long. I have no idea how Sirius did it. By then the 'Sirius' of that time line had escaped, so it wasn't safe for him to step outdoors. I suspect he slipped out as a dog now and then, but neither I, nor Andy ever caught him. Dora and I frequently went out for shopping sprees, movies, eating or just to hang out together in non-magical world. She was somewhat nearer to my age, and in her final year at Auror Academy and was working one-to-one under the legendary Master Auror Alastor 'Mad-Eye' Moody."

"Mad-Eye?" Hermione interrupted.

"He has a fake magical eye apparently. Tonkses and Sirius are really proud of Dora, the Aurors take only the best of the best. Then training with Moody one-to-one is an opportunity of a life time. The guy is a genius at the business, despite his limp, he was always able to beat Tonks, and she always came back bruised and banged up. But she persisted. A true Hufflepuff, that one. Pure grit, determination and hard work." Harry shook his head fondly.

Hermione could clearly see that he too was proud of her. Although the picture he painted of her didn't match with her first impression of her, but then again, it was a crazy night. She now really wanted to meet Tonks. Deep down she felt a bit insecure that her spot as Harry's best female friend was endangered, but she wasn't going to let such things colour her perspective of Tonks.

Harry had paid no attention to her inner monologue, "Sirius once worked with Moody in Dumbledore's anti-Voldemort vigilante group, Order of the Phoenix. Says he is the best, and the hardest teacher he has ever worked under. Sirius was a hit-wizard." He clarified, "He wanted to be an Auror like dad, but partially due to his grades and partially due to his family name being associated with the 'dark-side', he never made it. However due to his skill in duelling, was sent to the hit-wizards." replied Harry.

Harry paused for a moment, then as if remembering a funny anecdote, grinned, "You should have seen their faces when I told them about our adventures these last three years. Don't tell Dora that I told you, but she became your greatest fan for a few weeks. Wanted to dash out to Hogwarts and hug you to death. Would have done so too, had Andy not put her foot down."

Hermione felt her face flushing. "Bu..But I didn't even do anything. I bet you greatly exaggerated my part and down-played your own."

Harry didn't deny her accusation and just threw her a wink.

"So, this is the reason that Tonks behaved so forward with me in Professor Dumbledore's office! You have been telling her imaginary tales about me!" realisation dawning upon her. She punched his arm, then crossed her arms across her chest, trying to appear miffed.

Harry let out an incorrigible guffaw, "Dora is a bit like that with everyone. And I didn't exaggerate your part. Much." He added as an afterthought.

Hermione rolled her eyes again and shook her head, but let slip a small smile at his carefree laugh.

Then gathering his thoughts, he said, "When they came to know that a 60 foot long fresh carcass of a Basilisk, and that too, a Basilisk of Salazar Slytherin himself nonetheless, was laying unclaimed in Hogwarts, they went off in a tizzy. Andy contacted the goblins, some very tough negotiations took place, and by the end of July we were ready. Dora and I, went to the Chamber. Since it was summer vacations, we entered via the Shrieking Shack, and reached the Chamber undisturbed. She totally freaked out at first on seeing the size of the Basilisk. Had to put her in full Body-Bind, lest she alerted the entire Scotland." He gave an amused snort, "I will admit, even I was a bit freaked out at seeing its size without the rush of adrenaline in my blood. It was straight forward from there on, we placed a pre-made goblin heavy-lift Portkey on it and were transported instantly to a Goblin Facility where Andy was waiting. We kept the whole snake-skin and the skeleton and divided the profits from the soft tissue with Goblins half and half. You wouldn't believe the amount of gold it made me. And to think we were going to let it all rot down there in the dungeons!" Then pointing towards his dark trousers, he added, "In fact these are made up of an innovative amalgam of Denim and Basilisk skin. Basilisk skin is notoriously immune to magic, but the denim was added to let my skin breathe."

Hermione touched them to check, they were rough like denims. In fact looking at them no one could tell that they were anything but denim. A tiny, often ignored, rarely used, 14 years old teenage girl part of her blurted out, "I want a pair too." The rest of her brain caught up, her face flared hot with blush, her hands clapped on her mouth, her eyes closed in embarrassment.

Harry chortled at that. "Don't worry. You are doing much better than Dora in that aspect. She just stole my first pair. Never found them again, even after she got herself 5 more pairs of them. We will get a couple for you. We have enough snake-skin left to clothe whole Gryffindor."

Hermione breathed out slowly, her face still flushed, and squeaked out a small, "Sorry"

Harry simply waved away her apology, then picked up the thread of his narrative again, "We settled into a routine. During evenings, Sirius would either tell me or show in his Family Pensieve, about his life at Hogwarts, about my mum and dad, about Mama Potter and Papa Potter, as he called my Grandparents. I picked out a lot of dad's body language and gestures subconsciously during that time. We opened out the trunk that he had requested from my family vault. It was my dad's Hogwart's trunk. It was filled with my folks' books and notes. Their legal paperwork. Birth certificates and stuff. The Journal, dad and Pad kept to record their attempts and progress, when they became Animagus. They had kept it a secret from Remus, and later had helped Pettigrew achieve his form. Marauders' Log-book and Spell-book, a record of all their pranks, Hogwart's secrets and all the tricky spells they discovered and invented. My parents' and grandparents' Hogwarts' Head Boy and Head girl Badges, Dad's Gryffindor Quidditch Captain Badge and Auror Trainee Badge, Mum's Charms Club Chair-witch Badge. Mum's Quill-imitating Fountain pen. Dad's charmed spectacles, Grandma's pocket Watch, Grandpa's Goblin-made Cut-throat Shaving Blade. It is still as sharp as the day it was forged..." Harry trailed off, moving his fingers over his jaw, half lost in reminiscing, a faint distant smile on his face.

"The family Grimoire was filled with Transfiguration information. All Potters seem to be gifted in that field. My dad, it happens, was a genius at it. And Runes. Dad wanted to be a Curse-breaker if the war ended soon or an Auror, so he chose Runes."

Hermione's face lit up at that. Her mind leaping with joy at the possibility of learning all the advanced stuff from him. But Harry was not paying her any attention. His gaze was distant, his mind deep in his memories.

"My mum, on the other hand, was a Charms prodigy, and during her last years was working on getting a Mastery in the subject. She had an instinctual grip on arithmancy, and was herself quite a spell-crafter. I found a Charms Bracelet belonging to her, on which hung 10 charms in shape of books, numbered 1 to 10. On tapping them with wand each one enlarged into a notebook, filled with her hand-written notes, her invented spells, her thesis for Mastery, codes which Remus used to design the Marauder's Map in 5th year, her Herbology project with Neville's mum, that patronus messenger spell I used in Dumbledore's office. Her dreams and thoughts, her doodles, cartoons, her entire Hogwarts life. She wanted to be a teacher after the war." He gave out a sad, defeated sigh. Hermione had shifted her seat near to him during all this, and rubbed his arm reassuringly.

He shook his head, as if to dispel his depressing thoughts. Then giving Hermione a grateful smile, signalling that he was fine, he carried on, "It sparked my interest in Runes and Arithmancy. I didn't find Runes much fascinating, but it seems like I have inherited my mother's instinct for Arithmancy. Andy started teaching me Arithmancy, along with French which she was adamant that both me and Dora learn as befit a member of House of Black."

Hermione bounced excitedly inside. Arithmancy was her favourite subject. She had tried last year to get Harry and Ron take up that subject, in vain. But then, secretly she was glad of that too. Without their continuous presence, she was forced to get out of her comfort zone, and she had made a new friend in that class. She hadn't told Harry or Ron about her new friend, fearful of their reaction, but she was pleased that she finally had a female friend too, with similar interests and brain calibre as her.

Harry meanwhile carried on, "We started working on Sirius's magical fluency. Only wanded magic. Charms and Transfiguration. We started slow and from bottom, from First year stuff. I joined him to help him, at first, but as he advanced higher, he started tutoring me." He turned towards her, pride evident in his eyes, "Without the need to spend time on writing assignment, and leaving out Astronomy, Herbology, History and Divination, we advanced fairly quick. His family Grimoire was filled with curses, jinxes and hexes. Since there was not much reading involved for my part, and in the one-to-one training sessions, as opposed to a class-like environment, I, for the lack of a better word, flourished. Ted took over my Potions education, and I learnt much more from him in a single day, than I would ever from Snape in a whole lifetime. I mean, I still am not great shakes at them, but I am not as bad as I was previously. By the end of October, I was as good as an Outstanding in NEWTS in Charms, Transfiguration and Arithmancy and good enough to manage an E in OWLs in Potions and Runes."

Hermione stomped upon the small knot of jealousy she felt and grabbed onto the pride she felt for her first-ever friend. She had always known that Harry was a bright guy, if a bit lazy about his homework. She had a suspicion that he would do better outside of the classroom environment, but could never do anything about it.

"What about Defence against Dark Acts?" Asked Hermione.

The smile that lit up his face, seemed to her quite similar to the ones she had seen on Flitwick's and McGonagall's faces whenever she asked a good question.

"Defence, as in itself is not a subject, but a class. It includes use of Jinxes, Curses and Hexes, which actually come under Charms, as Dark Charms. We do need a NEWT in it for job, yes. But there is no Mastery in it. Hence the reason it is so difficult to find a teacher for it and people like Lockhart managed to grab the post. So when I say charms, I mean both Charms and Defence. Actually most of the people use only Charms in any duel, hence the commonly used term Warlock to refer to any wizard or witch who is good at fighting, therefore the designation Chief Warlock, kind of like the word Knight in muggle world. Technically, Warlock is only used for a person proficient in Charms. By contrast, Sorcerers are the people who rely on Transfiguration, like Dumbledore. He is Grand Sorcerer, the highest ranking user of Transfiguration in the World. Professor McGonagall is a High Sorceress, which is 2 levels below Dumbledore. The Warlocks have a much varied categorisation due to much larger number, but their highest rank is Arch Warlock, which was held by Gellert Grindlewald at the height of his power, thus the epic nature of the fight between Dumbledore and Grindlewald." He spoke with a calm yet passionate voice, using hand motions to elaborate.

Hermione couldn't stop her amused grin spilling across her face. Harry too seemed to have caught up with his actions and stopped abruptly, put his hands down, and ducked his head with a shy smile.

"My, my Mr. Potter, you do seem to have inherited your mother's love of teaching also." She teased him.

His face reddened. He ruffled his hair, then cleared his throat, "So, back to our story. In early October, Trelawney's words just came to my mind, which I passed off as a joke and told everyone at the dining table just for laughs. To say I was shocked by their reaction would be an understatement. Then, a long lost, half faded memory came to Sirius, he recalled my father telling him something about a prophecy before he and mum went into hiding. Over the next few days, Tonks spied out the Chamber of Prophecies, where all certified prophecies are automatically recorded, in the Department of Mysteries, and came back with bad news. There were two prophecies there by Trelawney, both of them about Lord Voldemort. Both of them had my name on them. On the more recent one, as the listener. On the other one, made to Dumbledore, on 31st Oct 1979, as the subject."

Hermione felt something sink deep within her. In hearts of hearts, she had an idea where this was going.

Harry had continued speaking, "We made a plan. I, under Polyjuice Potion and Dora in a morphed state, entered the Department of Mysteries. We replaced the orb containing the Prophecy record with a fake one, and returned to 12 Grimm."

"What did it say?" Hermione asked, scared, knowing subconsciously, that she was not going to like the answer.

"Those words are burnt into my mind. Ironically we listened it on 31st October too." Then taking a deep breath as in steeling himself he began in a monotone,

'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the dark lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have a power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...'"

There was a stunned silence in the room. Neither spoke for a moment. Hermione was crushed. Harry! Her best friend! Even after having lived such a hard life, he just couldn't catch a break. This was wrong! This was outrageous! He was just a kid, for Merlin's sake! How was he supposed to face off against the most vicious dark lord in recent history? In a trembling voice, she asked, although she knew the answer, but she didn't want it to be true, "The boy in the prophecy...is...is that you?"

Harry gave her a helpless smile, "He did mark me, didn't he? But at that time it could have been either me, or Neville."

"Neville?" asked a shocked Hermione.

Harry just shrugged, "Our mums were pregnant at the same time. Since they were best friends and in the order together, Sirius knew about them. Neville was actually due for 21st of July, but was born a week late, on 30th July. I was due in 1st week of August, and was born earlier than scheduled, on 31st, at 11:59 pm in fact. Call it co-incidence or fate, but here we are. But well, who is to say that the prophecy didn't get fulfilled that night, Voldemort was vanquished after all. Or who is to say that it has even begun, he may return to his power, mark Neville and then they face off in the end."

Hermione's knees trembled, her mind churned with possibilities and absurd thoughts, but she controlled herself. She rose, walked up to him and gave him a tight long hug. Unbidden, tears leaked from her eyes. Then looking directly in his eyes, with a firm voice, she repeated her own words, spoken long ago, "You are a great wizard, Harry." Both of them smiled at the remembrance, before Hermione continued, wiping away her tears, "I will be standing right besides you, Harry, until the very end, to the best of my ability."

The smile disappeared from Harry's face instantly, and in a deep, low but authoritative voice he spoke, "Thank you for the support, Hermione, but I will not drag you to this fight with myself."

Hermione wanted to protest, to yell at him for being such a self-sacrificing, noble idiot, but Harry continued, "Listen to me, Hermione. All these years, after listening to the prophecy, I have not sat idle. You are a great witch, but you still have a long way to go. And if I have my way, this new war, will not stretch as long as the last one."

Hermione still felt unsatisfied, so he placated her by saying, "Just listen to the whole story, and then we will decide, alright?"

At Hermione's nod, he picked up the story again, "Well, the prophecy had come as a jolt to all of us. Sirius's mental health was still fragile. He regressed several weeks of progress. Took to drinking, avoided coming out of his room. I myself was only 14 years old, and it had shaken me to core. Dora was in denial. Andy seemed to keep finding loopholes and explanations, one more absurd than the last. But slowly we all got better in the end, and now put all the energy and efforts in training me. Sirius and Dora added physical training to the schedule, basic hand-to-hand, dodging and stuff. Sirius was contemplating using the Time-Turner again, but Andy stood firm, saying it was too dangerous and we had had one accident with it already. It was a cold and quiet Christmas that greeted us. But it all changed with the arrival of a most welcome visitor on our door-step."


	3. Chapter 3

**A.N.- 1st. I'd like to thank you all for reading and sending the reviews, both complimentary and critical.**

**2nd. this is going to be a much smaller chapter, but I myself wanted to be done with the back story, just like many of the reviewers and move on to the meatier parts.**

"So...who was it?" asked Hermione after Harry hadn't spoken for some time, no doubt intentionally building up the suspense.

"You won't believe it, if I told you." He teased her.

"Oh come on, Harry," said Hermione exasperatedly, her mind going in overdrive trying to make a guess, before giving up. "It couldn't have been the Queen of England now!"

Harry snorted, "Pretty close, I would say. In a way you can say it was someone whom you can consider as the closest thing the wizarding world has got to a queen. It was...Perenelle Flamel."

"But she likes to be called Perry. Apparently being called Lady Flamel makes _her _feel _old_." He added with an amused expression.

Hermione was dumbstruck for a moment. Of all the people she had thought of, this was not a name she had expected. "I thought the Flamels had, as Dumbledore had put it, 'passed on to the next great adventure'?" she asked, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes suspiciously. She hated her facts getting wrong.

Harry chuckled softly, then bending forward, looking directly in her eyes, he spoke in a false sage voice, "Miss Granger, you are talking about someone who was among Vatican's who's who during the worst of the Witch Hunts, has survived the French Revolution and was responsible directly or indirectly for sparking a couple of other revolutions, lived through two world wars, Grindelwald's occupation and 34 other Dark lords and Ladies. Do you really think a yesterday-born punk could threaten them or a senile self-righteous child could guilt them into considering Death? Like a common lowly mortal?," he straightened and gave an impish grin, "Her words, not mine! I actually asked her the same thing as you, although not as tactfully, I'll admit. Apparently the Flamels had slipped Dumbledore a decoy! But she did thank me for the effort."

Hermione snorted at that. They nearly lost their lives in that effort, but of course why would the life of three 'common lowly mortals' matter to great and mighty Flamels. But she had to admit that it was quite logical and ingenious at the same time. And to be fair, the threat to her life was a fault of Professor Dumbledore. Honestly, why would anyone with an ounce of intelligence devise such a dramatic and elaborate series of obstacles to protect something, only to inform about its position. That too in front of a school filled with rebellious and overconfident teenagers, and then saying that it was 'forbidden' like a cherry on the top. Even Hagrid was more subtle about the stuff he wanted hidden. Norbert, the dragon, came to her mind.

Harry however continued, "Well, moving on. She knew about the prophecy, of course. I mean, she is 'Perenelle Flamel' after all." He rolled his eyes. "Surprisingly she offered to help us by getting me trained. Something which Albus Dumbledore should have done from the start, since it was to him the prophecy was made after all. But nevertheless, this turned out to be for the better."

"She had quite a 'simple' plan," he scoffed at that, "to send me back by 3 years and get me enrolled in, what at this moment is known as the 'Griffin Initiative'. As if it is an everyday occurrence for people to jump across the time frame and join MI-6 level organisations. I was, as you can understand, very sceptic. But then she gave that same infuriating smile-slash-smirk of hers and said, 'Mr. Potter, I am Perenelle Flamel'. And that was all-justifying end-of-the-discussion." He added with a shake of his head.

Hermione gave an amused chuckle at his attempts at impersonating Perenelle Flamel, before asking, "Griffin Initiative?"

"Ah caught it, didn't you?" he said, scratching the back of his head sheepishly, "I am not supposed to talk about it. Broadly speaking, it is a plan by the US and the Pacific Rim governments, against the growing threat of International Dark Wizards. They plan to encompass it all over the globe. Sort of like a cross between the muggle Interpol and NATO. Sorry, cannot elaborate more, it is all 'highly-classified' stuff." Harry told her, giving her a significant look at the word 'classified'.

Hermione wanted to ask more, but knew that it was futile, so she nodded in understanding.

Harry carried on after her nod, "Understandably, Sirius was adamant that he will go along with me, but with him being a fugitive from law, his presence would only have caused us a host of logistic problems. So, in the end it was decided that Dora and I will go and she will join the Griffin Initiative. As an Auror, it will give her much better training and field experience, which will help her in her job, after our return."

"Of course it was not that simple and involved a lot more boring details," he said nodding his head, "which I will spare you. Perenelle estimated that it would be better for us to make the 'jump' as close as possible to our last jump, but we wanted to leave enough time to allow us to regroup and plan for getting Sirius a trial. So we decided upon 1st of June. We spent the next 5 months practicing, training both magically and physically; packing, re-packing, collecting supplies. It was during that time that Dora bought this tent. Finally June 1st came and Perenelle arrived with the international Portkey and the papers and stuff. So with a final set of instructions, we made the jump. After undergoing an excruciatingly exhaustive series of tests, both of us were accepted, myself as a trainee, her as an intern."

He looked at her and a happy and nostalgic expression came over his face, "We lived those 3 years in New York. They were the hardest, most tiring and most satisfying years of my life till now. We both learnt from the best, and the worst in the business. We were pushed to our limits, magically, physically and mentally." A bright smile was growing up on his face, "Apart from that, we met so many people from all over the world, made friends, went out with some, held each other after each heartbreak, did 'stuff' with others and each other," he said with a roguish smirk, waggling his eyebrows, which made Hermione swat him on his arm, but he carried on unfazed, "went sight-seeing, skydiving, went to rock concerts, Quidditch and quodpot matches, fought with each other, pulled hair, got drunk, you know, stuff 'normal' people are supposed to do growing up." He let out a wistful breath. "Ah, wonderful days!"

There was a comfortable lull in conversation. After taking a few moments his expression grew thoughtful, "It was in early February this year when we were met by Perenelle again. She had just come from meeting our 'old-selves' at 12 Grimm. And she came bearing some grim news. Apparently she had sensed a certain darkness about my younger self, anchored around my scar, and after a battery of high-mage scans and tests concluded that the scar was much more worse than a simple cursed scar." He took a deep breath, raised his eyes to look into hers directly and spoke in a grave voice, all humour gone from his face, "It hosted a splinter of the soul of Voldemort himself!"

Hermione let out a shocked gasp. All these years, Harry had been walking around carrying a piece of that vile monster within himself! "And Professor Dumbledore didn't know about that? That doesn't sound plausible!" she almost shrieked. All right, she was now getting irritated at professor Dumbledore. Although deep down she knew it was irrational, but she felt as if Dumbledore had betrayed her trust.

Harry gave her a helpless shrug, "We reached the same conclusion and at that time our impression of Dumbledore was barely higher than Fudge. We were about to start freaking out. We were just two young people and truthfully, we were very homesick by that time. We had even begun ticking the dates off the calendar till 1st June. So you can understand how much of a shock it was to our system. But Perenelle made some contacts and arranged for us to meet a couple of people who could help...and that is when I first met 'her'." A dreamy look had come up in his eyes, his expression was distant, lost in his own world.

"Her?" asked Hermione curiously.

"Fleur Isabelle Delacour." He said, quietly, almost under his breath, his gaze still distant.

"And...she is?" Hermione prodded, highly amused inside having an idea where this was going.

"Huh!...Oh yeah, she is..." he shook his head, as if just realising where he was, a faint blush coming over his cheeks, "..she is a descendent of the Flamels, from her paternal grandfather's side. She was in her 6th year at Beauxbatons, the French magical school at that time. They take their OWLs at the end of 6th year and get a 3 month preparatory holidays prior to that. She was spending it working as an assistant with both her grandmothers, Diana Delacour and Laurel Luciferus. Interesting 'sparkling' personalities, both of them." He scoffed, laughing at some personal joke.

Hermione had a distinct impression that he meant something entirely different by the word 'sparkling', but let it slide.

"They conducted some tests of their own and estimated that the whole thing would take two lunar months. One for a cleansing ritual, one for recovery." he said.

"Recovery?" Hermione almost screamed.

"The Ritual involved a sacrifice, to barter for the release of the soul splinter, and binding mine to this realm. So, I had to give up all food for the period of the ritual, except water, of course." he told her, giving her a shrug. "At that time I was practically ready to get myself hit by a Killing Curse to get it out of me."

"Oh my! That is severe." Hermione whispered.

"It was," He nodded, with a wince, "The ritual part was done by Diana, who is a Diabolist, soul-magicians. She was assisted by Fleur. She placed me in a rune inscribed circle in a huge dark chamber, with the only source of light being a thin slit in the roof. I spent most of the time deep in meditation, quite similar to the way Occlumency is practiced. Every day when the sun passed over, a thin long sliver of Sunlight would sweep through the chamber from the slit in the roof, passing over my supine body, burning me through. Every night as the moon passed, a thin long sliver of moonbeam would pass over my body, caressing, cooling, soothing. Diana would come at fixed hours and chant for what seemed hours daily. But during the twilight, between the rising and setting of the Sun and the Moon, Fleur and I would talk. About everything and anything. We got to know each other quite well during those twilight breaks." He smiled fondly, then his whole face lit up slowly, "Whole month long I could feel a deep shadow lifting off my soul, bit by bit," he said looking at her, trying to explain it with his eyes and hand movements, "and deep within myself I found as if a deep seated knot, long unnoticed, loosening, slowly every day. And then on last day...it was gone! I had never felt so free, so light, so clean, you know! I felt like I was waking up properly for the first time in my life. I could practically feel magic coursing through my veins." He was lost in the moment, his eyes were bright, almost luminous, a peaceful smile on his face. Hermione couldn't help but grin along with him at his exuberant display.

"Next whole lunar month it took me to recover, under the care of Laurel, again assisted by Fleur." Hermione couldn't help but notice that he got a same stupid smile on his face, every time he spoke that name. "Laurel is a Thaumaturge. That is when my scar disappeared totally. She worked her magic on my eyes also, which got me rid of those bothersome glasses."

Harry flicked his right hand and an unfamiliar wand appeared in his hand. Smiling affectionately at the wand, spinning it lazily in his fingers, he said, "Unfortunately, the first time I took up my wand after two months without it, it felt somehow incomplete, inefficient. But Laurel took my old wand and modified it. It now has a merged wood of red oak and holly and a core of a single tail feather of phoenix from my old wand and a single tail feather from a stormcrow, or as the Americans call it, a thunderbird."

By this time Hermione had almost given up on acting surprised. Her eyebrows were getting tired of making the tedious journey from just above her eyes all the way to her hairline. But this was Big. Thunderbirds were held in same regard, in not more, as the Phoenix but were not classified as animals, rather as a natural phenomenon associated with storms and lightning. While a Phoenix was known to be associated with Will-Power and Fierce Independence, a Thunderbird was associated with Magical-power and Indomitable Spirit. The wand was, as she noticed, about the same length as his old one, but a quite noticeable reddish grain was also present in it. Harry flicked his hand again, and the wand disappeared again.

"Invisible Wand Holster." he answered, before she could even open her mouth to ask.

"Fleur and I spent May, preparing for OWLs together and hanging out around the New York. I helped her out with Transfiguration, she helped me with Potions and Runes. And so came 1st of June. Dora and I returned to London, and she returned to Paris for her OWLs." His smile had dimmed a bit at that for a moment, "We returned to 12 Grimm, of course, moments after our 'old' selves had left. We re-grouped, planned and well, you were there for what happened on the night of 6th June." He finished his tale, stood up and stretched his back.

A comfortable silence hung in the air, while Hermione digested all the new information and Harry took a breather and went to the sink to wash the dishes.

The silence was broken by an impressed sounding voice, "Wow!"

Hermione and Harry turned sharply towards the source of the voice, to find her parents standing at the entrance of the Tent, with their eyes wide and jaws hanging at the sight of a whole living room within a small looking camping tent.

"Mum, Dad," Hermione began cautiously, so as not to startle them. They both stopped their inspection of the room to lock their eyes on her. "I would like to introduce you to my school friend, Harry Potter."


End file.
